Don’t let my transcripts fool you; I was not that great a student. I was one of those who tuned the teacher out and doodled in the margins of my notebooks. It’s a bad habit that’s followed me out into the real world; whenever I’m in meetings at work, I find myself drawing little faces on my notepad. Over the years, I’ve saved some of my doodles because someone convinced me that I should, and sometimes when I clean out…
I remember watching a children’s television show where the host was also an artist. He’d challenge the audience to send in doodles of squiggly lines with which he could create new artwork, and letters from all over the country would come to the studio, all with funny squiggly lines. Then, right before our very eyes, he’d take a squiggly line and add more squiggly lines to it, until voilà—there, for all to see, was a new drawing. During my breaks…
I saw the stormy sky and felt like doodling today, and doodle I did. This doodle. Nothing more, nothing less. Naturally, the doodle involved an alien and an alien sky, and as often as I draw this little scene, I still have no name for this guy. A screenwriter I know is in the midst of writing a romantic comedy sci-fi thriller, where the aliens look like us on the day the earth stood still, but when Mr. Sandman delivers…
Earlier this year I had the nicest surprise. One of my oldest friends Glenda contacted me out of the blue, having found my art site via Google. We’d been friends since I was about nine or ten years old, but we’ve lost touch for so many years; so it was like revisiting the past and my carefree childhood. Anyway, a few days ago, Glenda sent me scans of some of my old sketches—godawful pencil drawings I did over 15 years…